


The Virtues of His Mother

by GatewayGirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-30
Updated: 2011-07-30
Packaged: 2017-10-22 00:21:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GatewayGirl/pseuds/GatewayGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry isn't James. On the other hand, he also isn't Lily. This complicates his current role.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Virtues of His Mother

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ponderosa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ponderosa/gifts).



> **Warnings:** I originally put "underage", then realized that is debatable. It depends on exact timing, and how 'real' you consider some events. (teen/teen, adult/teen).  
>  **Canon-Compliancy:** DH: EWE  
>  **Notes:** Written for Ponderosa for the 2011 Snarry Swap. This is technically neither AU (for EWE) nor time-travel, but incorporates the feel of both. Thanks to Sociofemme for Beta work, and to Japonicastar for Britpick.

"Dying?" Harry exclaimed. McGonagall's face was so stern as to seem disapproving of his surprise. "I thought he was dead!"

She sighed. "Draught of Living Death, Mr. Potter. Professor Slughorn saw him among the dead and recognized the iridescent sheen to his lips."

"But he didn't take anything!" Harry protested. Snape was alive? If he was alive, he couldn't die! Not after all that.

Professor McGonagall looked heavenward. "He was a spy, Harry, and a master of his craft. No doubt, he had more than one capsule charmed to stay in his body and open at a word."

"Oh." That made sense, Harry decided. Easier than hiding cyanide in a tooth, certainly. "Well, what can we do for him?" _Why did you come to me?_

Some of the tension left her face, letting it sag with exhaustion. "I wish I knew. Poppy has healed his wounds and Horace has administered the antidote, but he responds to nothing, only calls for Lily -- your mother, that would be -- and for you."

"The memories!" _He must want them back._ Harry pictured a maddened Snape ransacking his own mind in a Legimentic spiral, slowly losing all sense of the outer world. "Is there a way to restore them? Is he in the hospital wing?"

"There is no room. Poppy has those who need frequent care in the beds of her ward; longer-term patients whom we have not sent to St. Mungo's have been moved to the parents' rooms nearby." She sighed. "And no, we cannot _impose_ the memories upon him. He must take them back himself, and for that, he will need to be conscious."

"Take me to him," Harry said immediately.

She nodded. "It is my hope that he will respond to your presence."

 

She led him past the main rooms of the hospital wing, explaining that there were rooms beyond available for visitors -- a sick or injured child, Harry supposed, being the most common reason such a visit would be allowed. He wondered if the Weasleys had stayed here. At the third door she stopped and knocked. No one answered, but after a few seconds, the doorknob glowed. McGonagall turned it and pushed the door open.

The room beyond was small, containing little beyond a wardrobe, a double bed, and a tall, but narrow, fireplace that seemed designed more for travel than for warming the space. In the bed, Severus Snape lay on his back, his skin the color of pale beeswax, and his nose prominent over his slack face. Harry had just a moment to take in his appearance before he jerked up, his chest rising several inches from the bed before collapsing down again, as if someone had started to lift a marionette, but then dropped it. Harry rushed to the man's side in time to see the gleam of his eyes as they rolled up, and then closed.

"Lily," Snape groaned. "Forgive me."

McGonagall joined him at the bedside. "That's all we get from him," she said grimly. On the bed, Severus lay as still as before. "When he moves, it is in these convulsions. And the words ... they are clear enough, but he is speaking to some spectre in his head." She took the spare pillow from the bed and tossed it to the floor behind Harry, transfiguring it into a small wingback chair as it landed. "Sit down, now, and see if he responds to you."

"Professor?" Harry tried, as he settled uneasily in the chair. "The battle's over. You can have your memories back."

"Lily!" Snape called, in not at all the same voice as before. He sounded oddly small and frightened. Harry found himself picturing the oddly dressed boy at the playground.

"Professor Snape," he said urgently. "This is _Harry_. Harry Pot--"

"Come back, Lily. You're lost -- lost."

Severus must have thousands of memories of his mother, Harry knew. But if the strongest ones were reduced to bare facts, perhaps she was less of a presence? The man might be reacting, but it wasn't to his words.

" _Voldemort_ ," he said, drawing out the name as bait, "is dead. You played your part, sir."

For a long time, there was silence. Harry felt McGonagall grip the chair back behind his shoulder as they waited.

"I didn't mean-- Can't remember. Can't. I'm sorry."

"I'm sure she forgives you," Harry tried. Impulsively, he took the man's hand, but that only led to another cry for forgiveness. Sighing, Harry tried to lift his hand, but Snape's fingers locked around it.

"Strong, for an unconscious man," he said wryly.

"It is a magic stupor," Professor McGonagall said dryly. "There remains nothing wrong with his _body_ that would not be mended by some good meals and a few nights' sleep."

"Potter," Snape said finally, and Harry twisted to stare at him. He had nearly decided that McGonagall had invented that element. "Take it." His voice shook. "You must. _Please_."

Harry couldn't keep from thinking that Snape would never say "please" out loud if he knew what he was doing. Not to him, at least. "I'm here, sir."

"Eyes, God blast. Not her. Arrogant, imbecilic...."

McGonagall's breath drew in sharply. "We might as well leave, Mr. Potter. I can see this will accomplish nothing."

Harry shook his head. "You go," he said. "I want to stay longer."

She stepped back. "Perhaps that is wise. His stupor may have cycles like sleep." Her hand grasped his shoulder briefly. "I will expect you at dinner."

Harry could hear the warning in the words.

"Of course, Professor."

"Harry ... Please call me Minerva."

Harry looked away from Snape, taking a moment to study her earnest attention. "Minerva," he tried cautiously, and then grinned. "That's a change! I'll try, though. Thank you."

"Believe me, Mr--" She caught herself. " _Harry_. You have earned it."

 

They said their goodbyes, a little awkwardly, and Harry turned back to the bed, waiting for the door to click shut behind her. Once he was alone, Harry leaned closer to the currently still form. "Come on, you _bastard_ ," he snarled. "This doesn't get you. You are _not_ sentimental."

He had hoped for outrage, but Snape gave the lie to his words, curling towards him and clinging to his touch. "Please, Lily. I need you."

"Damn it!" With his free hand, Harry reached out and pried open the lids of one of the man's eyes. "Look at me."

"Such lovely eyes...."

Harry wasn't sure if that was a response or not. Snape wasn't focusing on him, so probably not. His frustration surged. " _Look at me._ "

He wanted to stand in between Snape and his thoughts, to force him to see.... Angrily, he drew his wand. " _Legilimens!_ "

 _As the incantation left Harry's lips, sunlight flooded his vision. He tried to pull back, but it was too late. He didn't know how. The world spun down into a dirty playground that fell and rose before him as he rose and fell on a swing. The chains were cool under his fingers when he shifted his grip up, rising higher and higher. He recognized the scene as he let go, launching outward and swooping through the air in a great, slow arc, hanging for a moment in nothing before coming lightly down on the broken asphalt. He turned, looking for Petunia, but she wasn't there. Uneasily, he moved back to the swings, and sat down heavily -- but not heavily enough. The swings were so large that he must be small. He closed his eyes for a moment, automatically starting to pump his legs. What on earth had possessed him to cast a dangerous spell he had performed only once, and that by accident? He could end up dying here, trapped with Snape in contortions of his dismal, angry memories._

 _ _Am I him?_ Curious, Harry opened his eyes again, and discovered that he couldn't be Snape, because Snape -- young Severus, in mismatched Muggle clothes, with unkempt hair spilling over the collar of his awkward coat -- was walking towards him. Quite suddenly, Harry noticed that his head ached -- not from the scar, as it had when Voldemort was active, but from deep inside. Was Severus pulling this memory from him, now?_

He stretched out his feet and watched his old trainers -- the blue ones that he had used when he was ten -- drag furrows in the soft dirt, bringing him to a standstill. _Am I her?_ Surely his mother wouldn't have worn trainers like that. _Could she have?_ Severus had stopped by the corner of the swing set. He was twisting his hands uneasily in the front of his coat.

"Hello," he said, and took a step in. "What's your name?" he asked, and for one frozen moment, Harry panicked. He wasn't sure what Severus was seeing -- his mother, or a young version of himself. He needed a gender-neutral name, he decided. Leslie? Or a nickname, like Bobby or Charlie? It was a pity there wasn't something he could do with Lily-- He suddenly knew what to say.

"Lee."

"Just Lee?" Severus asked.

"Yeah."

The boy smirked. "And you think I'll believe that's not short for a more embarrassing one?"

Harry might have not found that amusing from a stranger, but knowing this was _Severus_ made it funny. For the first time, Harry wondered what it had been like to grow up with a name like that. "Believe what you want," he said carelessly, listening to his high voice and wondering if the pitch was all from age. "What's yours?"

"Severus," Severus said deliberately. "Like the Roman Emperor, but it's a family name, on my mother's side."

Harry grinned. "And you're not embarrassed."

"No." Severus scowled, but sat down on the other swing. "Though if it had a normal nickname, my father would use it. He hates having to tell people my name. You're lucky with Lee -- you can use that about anywhere."

"I suppose." Harry decided that he would have to give some thought to what Lee stood for. Maybe he should even make it slightly embarrassing.

"I saw what you did," Severus said, satisfaction rising in his voice. "You're a wizard."

Trying to look startled, Harry pulled his head back. "No such thing," he answered. He remembered his mother had been offended here, but "wizard" wasn't an insult, the way "witch" could be. Should he try to conform to Snape's memories? It didn't seem as if he needed to. If things diverged enough, would Snape realize it and wake up?

"There is!" Severus said triumphantly. "I'm one too, and my mother is a witch. Your parents are both Muggles, though -- I'm sure of it!"

"Muggles?" Harry asked, feeling a new distaste at the word. His head throbbed.

"Non-magical people," Severus said. He hesitated, and Harry jumped in before he could say anything awful.

"But you're _magical_ ," he said sarcastically. "I expect you're a lost prince too?" The word "prince" lingered mockingly in his head, and he let Severus's startled laugh cut off his next words.

"Sorry!" Severus exclaimed. "That's my mum's last name. Prince, I mean."

Harry grinned. " _Emperor_ , then," he said. "It's about as believable."

"Is it?" Severus stepped close. "You can fly," he whispered fiercely. "You know it. I saw."

As the scene faded, Harry couldn't help thinking that it had probably gone much closer to how Severus had intended.

 

There was a whirl of nothing, and then he was with Severus again, and Severus was telling him about Hogwarts. Harry remembered his mother playing with a stick as if it was a wand, and did the same. Didn't Petunia interrupt soon? But there wasn't a Petunia, so what could happen? Was this somewhere between a memory and a daydream? Except that he wasn't a pretty little girl, of course, and if it was a daydream, shouldn't he be? Though, really, he thought, looking at the strange little boy in front of him, Severus was too young to care about girls. It must matter more that he was a magical friend in a lonely place. _You can fly._

"Does it make a difference," he asked, "being Muggleborn?"

Snape hesitated. Harry felt his dark appraisal like a shadow sweeping over him, followed by sudden light.

"Not to most people," he said. "But you might need to be careful."

That was an interesting change, Harry thought. Was it because he was a boy that Severus tempered his kindness with honesty?

"Some people won't like it, then," he said, as if guessing.

Severus lifted his shoulders in a shrug and then let them fall. He sat ramrod straight, with his legs crossed in front of him, and looked mysterious and authoritative. His strangeness only added to the effect. "You'll do all right," he said. "You have loads of magic, and I know what's what. We just have to stick together."

"Okay," Harry agreed readily. He didn't need to worry, since this wasn't real. He wondered if he should try to explain things now. That felt dangerous, though, and he doubted Severus would believe him. What if they needed to run through all the memories first? He tried to remember what happened next. Petunia had been hurt, but she couldn't be spying on them here, if she didn't exist. If Severus didn't hurt Petunia, how could they be fighting on the train?

 

They couldn't, apparently. The next thing Harry knew, he was waiting on the platform for the Hogwarts Express, with Severus beside him and a vague impression of parents in the background. Severus tugged at his sleeve, drawing him towards the train. His head hurt again.

Accord did not save them from the run-in with James Potter and Sirius. From the moment Severus said "Slytherin," Harry thought the encounter was identical to the word to Snape's memory. At the end, however, Harry could not bear to let Sirius have his moment of first-year wit.

"Come on, Sev. Let's find another compartment."

James still tried to trip Severus, but when the door closed behind them, Sirius had not yet found a suitably insulting corruption of "Sev."

 

This was mad, Harry thought, as he waited in line to be Sorted. If he'd travelled back in time he would be afraid of having disrupted his potential existence, by now. But he was just in Snape's head. He wondered about that, as he looked around at the young children his own size. Was this all in Snape's head, or was it in his, as well?

He had a sudden image of Dumbledore's beaming smile. _Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?_ "Great," he muttered, and then winced as the boy in front of him turned to stare. He smiled apologetically.

"Evans, Leopold!"

If this was real, what should he do? Try to get into Slytherin? What if he changed everything? Would Severus -- Professor Snape, rather -- wake with two sets of memories? Was he damaging the memories Snape had given him by not acting more like his mum?

The Hat gave him no choices, this time. It had barely touched his head before shouting out "Gryffindor." Like his mother, Harry looked back at Severus, trying to make his smile more encouraging than hers had been. He held up crossed fingers for a moment, and then moved to the Gryffindor table, snubbing Sirius completely to sit next to a girl he didn't recognize, with empty space to the other side. He ignored the sorting in favor of watching Severus, who looked away as soon as their eyes met.

"May I sit here?" Remus Lupin asked, and Harry nearly jumped in surprise. _That_ wouldn't be in Snape's memories.

"Go ahead. Remus, was it?"

"Right, and you're Leopold." Remus said eagerly. "Gryffindor family, I presume?"

"Nah. My family's Muggle."

To his surprise, a few of the nearby Gryffindors lifted their noses at that, but Lupin smiled. "My dad's Muggleborn," he confided. "He says it didn't take long to adjust. You get to be normal here." His smile faltered at that. In desperation, Harry looked across the room. Severus was watching them with obvious jealousy, and James was just rising to be sorted.

 _Friends_ , Harry mouthed at Severus. Severus looked puzzled, but seemed to accept that the word was kindly meant. He only rolled his eyes as James went to Gryffindor.

Harry continued to chat absently with Remus until "Snape, Severus" was called forward. Harry found himself clenching his hands into fists, hoping against hope that the verdict would be Ravenclaw -- surely Professor Snape was enough of a swot for Ravenclaw? -- but it was still Slytherin. As Severus took his place by Lucius Malfoy, Leopold Evans managed an encouraging smile.

 

Harry thought the next hop should be an argument several years later, but when he saw Severus again, they were still clearly first years. The headache he'd had since landing in the playground was gone.

"Who's that boy you're with all the time?" Severus challenged. He looked far more normal in school robes, and his hair was oddly clean, but his tone was belligerent.

"His name is Remus," Harry said. He couldn't help but think he sounded prim enough for a girl. "And he's perfectly nice." Vague memories of sitting with Remus filled in as he spoke.

"I thought you were going to stay _my_ friend."

"Of course I am!" Harry protested. "I can have more than one, you know. So can you."

"But I want to be your _best_ friend," Severus whined, and Harry jostled him.

"Worrywart. You _are_."

"Honest?"

"Honest."

 

Fourth-year Leopold Evans was sitting in a window alcove overlooking the front courtyard, reminding himself that Leopold Evans wasn't real. The more time went by -- or appeared to have gone by -- the harder it was to credit. He could remember trying out for the Quidditch team his second year, and being told that although his flying was impressive, he didn't have a strong enough throw for a Chaser. James had lorded it over him before every practice for weeks, and before and after every game for the rest of the year. He could remember conspiring with Severus to splatter James and Sirius with forgetfulness potion during one of the last Potions lessons of third year, and the disapproving looks he got from Remus afterwards, which relented only as they said their goodbyes at King's Cross. He could remember his second tryouts for the Quidditch team, just a few weeks ago, when he had taken the vacated Seeker's position. He was already regretting that; Severus had been standoffish since, and James was unbearable. Despite all of this, he could also remember that his name was Harry Potter.

"Potter," he muttered, trying it on, but it only raised his annoyance at James.

"What's he done now?" Severus asked, sitting uneasily at the other side of the embrasure.

Leopold shrugged. "Being an idiot at practice, that's all. Nothing new." He studied his friend and tried to hold the thought that he wasn't really the friend who should be here -- his mother had been. It didn't make any sense.

"What if this is all in our heads?" he asked abruptly.

Severus sniffed in that fake upper-class manner he had been trying to cultivate recently. "I believe that I, at least, have ample evidence of Potter's hostility."

"Don't put on airs!" Leopold snapped. "It doesn't suit you any better than it does him."

His friend's eyes flashed. "There's nothing wrong with bettering myself. Image _matters_ , you know."

"When you go on like _that_ , you have the image of a first-class prat."

"I won't be treated as ignorant."

"I don't care if you speak correctly, just don't try to sound like a lord. You're laying it on too thick. Hold it to normal, and everyone will see that you're brilliant."

At the last words, Severus settled slightly, his shoulders coming down. "It's difficult," he admitted.

"What is?"

"Talking different," Severus said bluntly. He rolled his eyes. "See? _Speaking differently._ I do it better if it's very different. That way, I don't lapse back."

"Well, you need to practice, then. Do you want me to correct your grammar? I can, mostly. Remus corrects mine enough."

With a relieved sigh, Severus nodded and swung his legs up on the sill. His ankles overlapped Leopold's.

"Do," he said. "Just...."

"Be nice?" Leopold guessed.

Severus snorted. "Don't do it in front of people. And you may need to remind me that I asked for it."

"Okay," Leopold agreed.

A little while later, while reading about Summoning charms -- easy, really -- he realized that he'd never finished telling Severus that he should be friends with a girl named Lily. He frowned at the text in front of him for a moment, and then shrugged. Maybe Harry Potter was all in his mind.

 

Leopold was furious. He paced back and forth by the garden wall, his hands clenched into fists and his rage-blind gaze on the dark track he had left in the wet grass. A movement in the shadows caught his eye, and he jerked to a halt, his head coming up.

"Lee?" Severus asked.

"Severus," Leopold snapped. "Give me one good reason that I should continue to speak to you."

Severus drew his head back like an offended crow. His lips twisted in a sneer. "Because you're my _best friend always_?" he said coldly.

Leopold glared. "You _laughed_ ," he accused. "Your so-called friends did _that_ to poor Mary and you laughed."

"It was funny."

"It was disgusting!" Leopold stepped forward, and Severus gave way a step, cringing in front of him.

"Look," he said, "it was just a prank."

"I see. Then I suppose the sort of things Sirius and James do to you are all right, then? I should just laugh, next time?"

Severus scowled. "Mary isn't my friend."

"And Sirius and James aren't using DARK ARTS on you!"

Severus relaxed. "Oh, so that's what this is about."

Leopold recoiled in shock. "What? No, this is about whether or not you're still a decent person."

"I didn't do anything to her!"

"I know that. But if you think it was funny, what Mulciber and whoever else did, I don't see how we can stay friends."

"Why does she matter?"

"She's a person, Sev! And you _know_ why they targeted her."

"Oh." His defensive anger faded. "It's all right, you know. People like you anyway."

"Oh? Including your other friends? What do they think of me?"

He looked away. "About what your other friends think of me, I expect."

Leopold sighed. Severus had a point there, even if he suspected that Severus didn't defend him as consistently as he defended Severus. "It's just ... galling," he said, "watching you talking and sniggering with people who I know want me out of school, and preferably dead."

Severus bit his lip. "It's not that bad," he said. "They're mostly talk, anyway." Hesitantly, he laid a hand on Leopold's arm "And they know we're still friends."

Uncomfortable as it was, they were.

 

Leopold didn't know why leaving his Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. should fill him with foreboding. He thought he'd done well on it, actually. Still, something kept him moving slowly and cautiously as he went to join Severus outside. He supposed it would be the perfect time for an ambush, but the dormitory had been relatively peaceful, recently, now that James was seeing that Bones girl. He spent a moment blinking in the sunlight, getting his bearings. The other Gryffindor boys were easy to spot. James was showing off with a Snitch -- where had he got it? -- while Peter watched adoringly, and Sirius loitered nearby looking elegantly bored. Leopold scanned back. Remus was further from the lake, chatting with one of the Gryffindor girls, and Mulciber and Avery were over by the yews, but to his relief, Severus wasn't with them. Finally, he spotted him, sitting in the shade, reviewing his exam paper.

Just as Leopold started towards him, Severus stowed the paper away and stood up. He started walking, still apparently deep in thought, and Leopold set out to intercept him. He could see Severus had the attention of Sirius and James, which was never a good thing.

"All right, Snivellus?" James called.

Wands were drawn, Severus disarmed. Panic surged in Leopold's mind, although the harassing calls he heard were much the same as usual. Still, he couldn't push down the feeling that something horrible was about to happen. He darted through the sudden cluster of spectators, anxious to have unimpeded line of sight to the antagonists. He had to push past Remus who was talking doggedly to the girl about Befuddlement hexes, as if nothing were going on.

"Leave him ALONE!"

He was finally past the last of them. His outburst didn't impress anybody. Sirius laughed. Severus was spitting soap from his mouth.

"Always coming in on the side of your Slytherin pet, aren't you, Lee?" James challenged.

"I think Lee's got a thing for grease," Sirius said quickly. "Probably grew up on a pig farm, helping render lard--"

Leopold had his wand out before he even realized it. He snapped out a hex that he and Severus had come up with earlier in the year. Suddenly, Sirius wasn't speaking, but barking. Scattered people in the crowd burst out laughing as he let out a startled yip. Others gasped.

"There," said Leopold nastily. "I think you make more sense that way."

Furious, Sirius thrust his wand at him, but his incantation came out as a growl, and nothing happened.

" _Expelliarmus_!"

" _Protego_!" Leopold managed to deflect the hex from James, but his returning Leg Lock jinx was similarly blocked. Severus made a move for his wand, but Sirius dove in to intercept him and bore him down to the ground. Leopold felt something burn along his arm and looked down to see blood.

"That is ENOUGH!"

Remus, having finally decided to act like a prefect now that one of his friends was hurt, bound James and sent an impressive jet of water into Sirius and Severus, soaking both of them.

"Behave, the lot of you!" Glaring at James, he added in a lower voice: "And if you don't, it won't be _my_ fault that I have to take more points from Gryffindor than Slytherin."

"Well, it's not my fault that Leopold was mis-Sorted," James shot back. "Obviously, he should be one of them, if he likes them so much."

"And me?" Remus asked, almost sweetly, reminding James that Leopold was his friend.

James summoned his charm. "Ravenclaw, of course," he said amiably.

"Gryffindor is not your private club, James," Remus said firmly. He tried a healing spell on Leopold, but the blood wouldn't stop. "What on Earth...?

Severus, his eyes black in his pale face, touched his wand to Leopold's arm and healed the slash with the counter-curse.

Leopold caught his breath. "Thanks," he forced out

Severus shrugged. Leopold knew he hated it when enemies used his hexes.

"Now, Lee," Remus continued, "lift that curse from Sirius, please."

Leopold, recovering, sniggered. "But he makes such a good dog."

Sirius growled.

" _Leopold...._ "

"Oh, fine!"

 

It had been a bad encounter, but not a horrible one. They all got detention, and life in the dormitory was bound to be rough for the little time that was left of the year, but there was nothing to justify his earlier sense of dread. Leopold was still puzzling over it when he fell asleep.

 

He dreamed of a girl in his place, defending Severus, but with words. Everything went farther, and Severus was nastier -- not only to his enemies, but to his defender. Remus did not intervene.

 

When he woke, the sense of dread was back, if less focused. That morning, when he saw Severus coming down from breakfast to Potions, Mulciber haranguing him from the side, Leopold ducked out of the way unseen.

"... are though. Potter even called you his pet."

"I'm no one's pet," Severus snarled angrily.

"You shouldn't need help from a Mudblood, then." Mulciber caught Severus by the wrist and pulled him around. "Look at me. Can you take care of yourself or not? Because we don't have any use for babies."

"I didn't see you telling Avery to piss off when Longbottom came after you about MacDonald."

"Avery," Mulciber said, as if Severus was particularly slow, "is a worthy ally, and Longbottom is older than us. Now I suggest you consider your priorities, mongrel. Is that clear?"

Severus looked down.

"Yeah," he said.

"Good. Act like you mean it, and I might consider putting in a good word for you."

Releasing Severus with a shove, he swaggered off towards the classroom. Severus went in late. Leopold went in later.

 

That afternoon, Leopold invited Severus for a walk by the lake. Severus glanced around, and to Leopold's mind he looked nervous, but he agreed to come, and did not hurry as they were crossing the wide swath of grass below the castle. Leopold led the way into the trees, until they were out of casual sight of the students near the greenhouses. Finally, he stopped and leaned against a tree, but he found he didn't know where to start.

"Is this just a constitutional, or are we out here for a reason?" Severus asked.

Leopold took a breath. "I heard you with Mulciber today," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to listen; I was just trying to get out of the way."

Severus looked sullenly down at the floor. "I didn't say I'd drop you."

"You didn't say you wouldn't."

Scowling, Severus looked up. "So? What do you want? For me to have no friends in my house? That's what will happen if I tell him to get lost."

Leopold set his chin down. "Sev. You'll end up with no friends at all, if you keep on like this. You'll lose me, and that lot will never respect you, and eventually you're going to realize that you can't respect them. You'll be stuck socializing with Malfoy in a relationship of mutual contempt."

"Are you a seer, now, Lee?"

He took a breath. "I see this as clearly as if I lived it," he said. "You're a bitter old man before you're forty."

He looked away. The sun still glittered on the lake. He knew this should be happening late at night, outside of Gryffindor, and it should be ever so much worse. His mind went back to his dream. "You didn't call me a Mudblood," he said.

Severus blinked, and then stared. "Of course not. Why would I?"

"For helping you."

"Are you _mad_?"

"I was supposed to be a girl," Leopold said insistently. He wished he understood it better. "I mean, there was a girl, and you were humiliated...." He trailed off helplessly. He couldn't explain; he could barely even remember.

Severus drew his brow into thick wrinkles. "You want to be a girl?"

"No, of course not! But your friend from home should be. Except maybe that would make it more complicated--"

He silenced abruptly as Severus caught his jaw, stopping him from shaking his head. He expected an attack, ranting, questions.... The kiss took him completely by surprise. He found himself responding -- just a few seconds of returning the press of lips -- before he thought to pull away.

"What was that for?" He looked around frantically, but no one appeared close enough to have seen. Severus smirked.

"I don't mind you not being a girl," he said confidently. "I like you as you are, really."

"I.... But...." It hadn't been what he meant, but before Leopold could pull words together, Severus was kissing him again. He gave up, and brought his hands up to the other boy's shoulders. This was much better than trying to remember nightmare images of Severus hating him.

 

Things hadn't changed much, Leopold thought, a few days later. Oh, James and Sirius coated his robes with mud and hexed his tie to Slytherin colors, and he couldn't seem to stop smiling for more than a few seconds at a time, but really, everything was the same. Severus might enjoy kissing him, but wasn't so foolish as to let potential enemies know that, and for once, Leopold was willing to come down on the side of discretion. They were sitting quite demurely under their favorite tree by the lake, as they had on fine spring days for years, both with their backs to the trunk, and so facing slightly away from each other. No one could see where their hands touched between them, in between the turning of pages and the occasional use of quills.

"Are you ready?" Severus asked. "For the year to be over, I mean?"

Their last exam was in a few hours, and the train home in two days. Leopold found himself with the slight headache that always came on when he tried to think about home.

"It has its points," he answered. _No Avery or Mulciber, no Sirius or James or Peter...._

"I suppose," Severus admitted. "I'm just trying to come up with a way to stay out of the house as much as possible. I'm certain a Muggle job would drive me spare."

"Maybe we could work on a project together."

"Fine, but where?"

Leopold thought. "There's that empty mill building. Do you think we could get in?"

"Without magic?"

Leopold looked over. "There's a loophole, you know."

"I don't think we can present breaking into the mill as self-defense." Severus scowled. "Although it might be, considering my father."

"No, I mean charmed objects. Sirius has a folding knife that can open locks...."

"How proper of him," Severus sneered, but his scowl was perfunctory. "Perhaps. So we need...?"

"A sort of localized Confundus, I think, and maybe a silencing charm."

"And opening doors?"

Leopold grinned. "I can use a crowbar by myself, can't you?"

 

It was December of their sixth year. Leopold could remember the summer -- how the old swing set seemed so much smaller now, and how the empty factory smelled of musty stone and rust. He just wasn't sure it had _happened_. Nothing seemed to have changed, and when he tried to think about home -- or any other time that Severus wasn't there -- he got a headache. He wondered if he really could be someone else.

"Severus isn't here now," he told himself, but when he looked up, he saw that was only half-true. Severus was standing on the steps up to the castle, watching him approach.

"You got Lupin off safely, I take it?" he asked companionably, as they heading into the Entrance Hall.

"Of course." Leopold shrugged. "He'll be fine. Sirius and James seem to like him, even if he does have the bad taste to like me."

"Pettigrew isn't as generous."

"Oh, he's just jealous."

They had reached one of the receiving rooms. Severus pulled him through the door.

"What's this?" Leopold asked, but he had a good idea as soon as Severus pressed him back against the wall.

"Out of sight," Severus whispered, and pushed into a kiss.

It was brilliant. Leopold grabbed Severus at the waist and hauled him in tight, and they rubbed up against each other as they kissed. He couldn't think why they hadn't moved on to this months ago. Their movements grew smaller and tighter and more frantic, and Leopold was achingly hard, and Severus had his tongue in his mouth, and he hoped no one could hear them, because he couldn't stay quiet. Severus whined, and with a last jerk of his hips, Leopold was coming in his clothes. Severus had beaten him to it, if the stain spreading on his robes was anything to judge by.

"Oops," Leopold said, almost giggling. Severus responded with the broadest smile Leopold had ever seen from him.

"Cleaning charms," he said, and then let his head drop forward onto Leopold's shoulder. Leopold cast for both of them.

 

The next day, Severus snapped constantly, and Leopold wondered if he had regretted it. After dinner, however, when they met in the hall and Leopold was wondering whether to try to coax him off, Severus let out a harsh breath.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I know I'm being a bear. Let's go somewhere to talk."

They settled on an empty classroom, where Severus charmed the door to block sounds. Leopold hoped that was a good sign.

"Planning on making some noise?" he asked suggestively. Severus sighed.

"Lee, listen. I need you to know...."

He paused for so long that Leopold found himself listing possible completions in his mind. _I've decided this is a mistake; a homosexual affair will damage my chances for future advancement. I've decided to sign up with Lord Voldemort, and cannot be seen with a Mudblood. I'm leaving school for an apprenticeship with a potions brewer in Brazil. I've realized you don't exist._

Severus let out a shaky breath. "I'm losing my magic," he confessed.

"What?" That wouldn't have been on the list if he'd gone on for hours.

"My magic has been growing weaker all month. I couldn't have cast the cleaning charm last night if I'd had to."

"But...." Leopold waved his arms out at the world. "That's not possible."

"It doesn't happen naturally, true. But there's the Magibind potion...."

"Which lasts five minutes at most and is too pungent to disguise," Leopold argued.

"Yes, but it means there could be others," Severus said insistently. "Ones the school doesn't talk about. And I've heard of curses that sap magic."

Leopold had the momentary thought that it was probably just exhaustion from doing Legilimency nonstop for years, but that didn't make any sense. After words of reassurance and some bracing kisses, they went off to the library to research energy curses and counter-curses.

 

It was early spring. Severus met Leopold at the door of the library and pulled him away and around the corner.

"I think I found something!"

Leopold couldn't help feeling wary. The last thing Severus had found had been a stomach-churning Dark Arts spell. On the other hand, he hadn't looked so cheerful about that.

"Oh?" he asked.

"A spell to restore energy to someone that it has been drained from." Severus bit his lip. "It's, well..." He looked down. "Um, sex magic."

"Oh?" Leopold asked, amused. That is, he was trying to sound amused, and he _was_ amused, really, but also a little bit afraid.

"You shouldn't mind." Severus reddened. "I mean, as you're the healthy party..."

"Mm?"

"I would, well, take your 'wand', as the spell says, in my mouth, and swallow when you come. But when you do, you have to send energy out through it -- like through your real wand when you're casting a spell. You sort of make a potion of your spunk."

"Oh." Leopold couldn't repress a surge of excitement at the thought of Severus sucking him off. It was bound to feel good, and also, it would be _Severus_ , doing that for him -- _Well, for himself, really, but to me._ On the other hand, this was serious, magically as well as sexually.

"If I do this for you...." he began. Severus glared.

"You want _conditions_ for me to blow you?"

"No, I want conditions to _send energy out my wand_. You can blow me any time you like."

"I thought you were worried about me."

"I am." Leopold pushed his hair back. "But sometimes I think you'd be safer if this went on a while."

"Safer!" Severus was livid. "What am I supposed to do if I don't have magic?"

"Stay out of trouble! Look, you're brilliant with potions, and almost as good with hexes, and I get the impression that Mulciber is pressuring you."

"I haven't promised him anything."

Leopold didn't like the implications of that. He glared. "Fine. Promise me."

"What?"

"If you want me to do this for you, you have to promise me that you won't serve Lord Voldemort."

"And if that's my best opportunity?"

"It's not. You're too clever for that."

"But what if they take control?"

"Well, then I'm dead, aren't I? And you're a second-class citizen. Don't forget that. Maybe you'll have to kill me to even stay that."

Severus took a quick breath. "Yes," he said, looking away. "I've been thinking ... it would be the logical thing for them to ask of me. For ... loyalty."

Leopold swallowed.

"I promise," Severus said quickly. "I won't join them, I promise. But we still have to be discreet until we're out of here."

"I'm not particularly into being beaten up by my housemates either, you know."

"Do you think-- Could we get a flat together?"

Almost laughing in relief, Leopold stepped in close. "I'd like that."

"Because it would be cheaper, I mean."

"Of course."

 

Over the holidays, they had found better places to be alone. They were in the best of them now -- a pleasant drawing room that appeared on the seventh floor if you walked back and forth a few times. Severus had speculated that a professor must have created it as a private retreat, long before. It was clearly old. The upholstery on the sofa was worn but clean, and more importantly, it was wide enough to lie down on when they were more or less on top of each other.

There was none of that now.

"I think you should stand," Severus said nervously. "I need to be on my knees, and the element of supplication will be stronger if you stand." He made a face at that, but not as much of one as Leopold would have expected.

"Are you sure I need to, though?" Leopold asked. "I mean-- It will take me longer. To ... you know." He had always found it faster to wank in bed than in the shower. He thought it must be something about the effort of staying on his feet.

"I'll survive," Severus said dryly. "And you can't take _that_ long. It's supposed to be brilliant."

Leopold nodded. Sirius certainly raved about how good it was from his girlfriend. He shivered, knowing what trouble he and Severus would be in if any of their classmates found out about this. This room always seemed secure, though.

"Okay," he said, positioning himself against the back of the sofa, in case he needed support. "Should we just--"

But Severus was already on his knees, undoing Leopold's robes. "Let me do everything," he said. "You concentrate on building up magic with sexual energy."

Leopold nodded. He remembered the instructions. Still, he bit his lip while watching Severus part the fabric and unfasten his jeans. Despite his anxiety, he was already mostly hard, and when Severus took his erection in hand to hold it out of the way of his zipper, he stiffened entirely.

"Lift your foot," Severus said, sounding slightly amused, and it registered that his jeans were now on the floor. Complying, he found that Severus had undone his trainers at some point as well.

"I see getting you up won't be a problem," Severus said dryly, raising a skittery static of panic under Leopold's lust. Severus stretched his head forward. "I've never done this before," he muttered quickly, and then, cautiously, brought the tip of his tongue to the wrinkles of Leopold's foreskin, and drew it up the bit of exposed head.

Leopold dug his fingers into the back of the sofa and managed not to plead with him to get on with it.

Experimentally, Severus ran his tongue around the border. Leopold whined, and Severus looked up, somehow managing to look smug even on his knees, set his mouth to the head, and took all of it in.

"Merlin!"

Even Severus couldn't smirk with his mouth full, but Leopold got the impression that it wasn't for lack of trying. He bobbed his head, moving his mouth up and down Leopold's cock. It was hot and wet and felt just as excellent as Sirius had claimed in his boasts. Leopold braced himself against the hard curve of the sofa back and closed his eyes to concentrate on the energy of his response. His wand hand curved involuntarily as he wove sexual energy with magical energy and channeled it into his bollocks. A sudden surge brought him a level out to realize Severus had somehow tightened around him, with lips and tongue and cheeks, and was sucking slightly.

"Brill," he muttered, and then, to concentrate, " _vigesco_."

The power built in dizzying spikes, making the physical act both more intense and less real. By the time he felt himself borne up the last crest, Leopold was lost in it. Without conscious thought, he brought his hand to the base of his cock, shouting as he came, letting out pulse after pulse of magical energy into the vessel before him.

 

The distortion of the spell faded vanished as soon as he came, leaving a marvelous haze of satiation behind. The one thought that managed to stay in Leopold's brain was that he had to make Severus feel good _now_. The sofa would work, he thought, but they were on the wrong side of it. Too disoriented to go around, he tumbled over the back of it, tugging at Severus. "Here," he said. "With me." Severus followed him down, a little too pointy at the elbows and other joints, and Leopold wriggled out from under him and twisted up on his side to have his right arm free. Severus had loose enough trousers that he was able to just undo the belt and shove his hand inside. He had a thin, long cock that Leopold could easily grip all the way around.

"You're fucking hot, you know that?" he whispered, making Severus moan. "That was brilliant as magic, but I want to do it again when I can pay attention. I'd be trying it on you now if I wasn't afraid it would undo the spell."

"Just.... Lee, please, I need...."

Severus bit his mouth closed and stretched back his head. Leopold moved in and sucked on the pale skin of his neck, making him squirm and whimper. Severus undid his trousers to give him more room, and Leopold took full advantage of it, his hand moving in a blur, making an unmistakable vulgar slapping noise, until Severus arched in him, pumping out streams of white and letting a cry like an amorous cat. He collapsed down, his hand still fisted in Leopold's robes. For a moment, they just breathed.

"Wow," Leopold said softly. "That was ... incredible. I hope you feel better, because with the way the spell took over, if it didn't work, it's not going to."

Severus leaned heavily against him. "I'm not sure," he said, and Leopold's heart sank. "I felt a lift for a moment, but then it was just...."

"Just?"

"I wanted you." Severus glanced at him almost shyly. "And that was good, but once it was over, I felt really _strange_."

"Good strange, or bad strange?"

"Guilty strange," Severus confessed. "As if that was wrong to do with you -- not that there's anything wrong with you...." He twitched back, his eyes open in uncomprehending fear, like a deer caught in the headlights. "But, of course it _should_ be you," he continued, stumbling over the words. "Why should I feel like..."

Leopold stroked his hair. "Like you should be with a girl?" he suggested wryly. "Maybe you're more socially conditioned than you think." The idea of a girl, though, rang distant bells in his memory. He had dreamed of Severus with a girl who had his place, not as a lover, but as a friend.

"No!" Severus insisted. "I enjoyed that part. No, it was _you_ , specifically."

"Because a Muggleborn is beneath you?" Leopold said bluntly.

"No!" Severus shook his head. "It wasn't like that. It was more ... that I should protect you. That I'm not _allowed_."

Leopold concentrated very hard on the memory of knowing he was someone else. It was harder and harder to believe, and he could no longer remember the name. It was easy, however, to picture Severus much older.

"You're older than me," he said softly, thinking out loud.

"What?" Severus scowled. "I'm younger."

"No. You were older. I came back."

Severus jerked away. "You're a _time traveler_?"

" _No_ ," Leopold said, frustrated. "I'm just in your head. Or you're in mine. I can't remember." He looked up suddenly. Severus was looking at him like he was mad. Maybe he was, but he could see the glimmer of an answer. "How do you stop Legilimency?"

"Occlumency," Severus answered automatically.

"No, I mean, how do you stop _doing_ it?"

"You...." Severus stared. "You just stop."

"That doesn't help."

"Who's doing Legilimency?"

"I'm not sure."

Severus rolled his eyes. "I see. This is one of _those_ moods."

"Yes," Leopold said, undeterred. "We need to take Magibind. Together."

"We are not in magical spasm!"

"I think we are. It's exhausting you."

 

They waited until the Easter holiday, when some of the students -- fortunately, including James and Peter and Mulciber, although not Sirius or Avery -- went home, and then until Professor Slughorn was away for a day. In a small room in the dungeons, they set up the Foe Glass they had nicked from his office and took out the two vials of Magibind that they had brewed the week before. The muddled scents of licorice and myrrh flooded the air as soon as Leopold uncapped his. Both looked at the Foe Glass. It showed only its usual vague shadows, but Severus still paled as he peered at his vial of aromatic black liquid.

"I'm only doing this to make you feel better," he said, opening it, but Leopold knew there was desperation behind the move, as well. Severus hadn't been able to perform a simple Summoning charm the previous week. He would never pass any of his N.E.W.T. practicals, at this rate, and then he wouldn't be eligible for a brewing license.

"Together, then," Leopold said. "On three. One, two, _three_."

Elbows rising in mirror image, they both knocked back the bitter draught. As he crumpled, Leopold's last thought was that it wasn't supposed to make the patient pass out.

 

He awoke in a well appointed, but tiny, room, on a narrow bed. Rolling over, he saw that it was half of a bed that had been split. Inches away was the other half, where a twice-familiar face was staring back at him with increasing horror. At first, he only saw Severus with lines of age pressed into his features, but he quickly realized that he already knew the paths of those lines. He groped for his glasses, finding them almost where he would have left them himself, and tilted them on. The face came into sharper focus.

"Professor Snape," he murmured, awareness seeping in.

Only then did he realize that they were still holding hands over the tiny gap between the beds. At the same instant, both jerked back, severing the connection.

"Potter," Severus sneered.

It felt like a slap in the face. Channeling his anger into will, Harry drew himself together. His clothes had been transfigured to pajamas, but he could sit up, and he did. His erstwhile friend matched the move.

"Severus," Harry said firmly.

Severus hissed. "Don't you dare! You violated my memories--"

"I didn't mean to!"

"Of course you didn't! You are always _accidentally_ intruding on things that matter to other people, with no regard--"

"I was trying to _save_ you!"

"Perhaps I do not care."

"Well, I do!"

"And it is all about you."

"Will you stop twisting things?"

They had leaned towards each other, perhaps too close, and now both fell silent, panting. For just a moment, Harry thought they might tilt into a kiss....

Severus drew back.

"I hate you," he said baldly, but Harry thought he saw a flash of confusion on his face before it drew into a rigid sneer.

He rolled his eyes. "No, you don't," he said. "You just can't deal with having been friends."

"We were not friends!"

"Oh, yes, we were. For years."

"That was _imaginary_ , Potter." Snape pronounced scornfully. "Everything that happened was in your head."

"A wise man once told me," Harry replied, "that just because it happens in your head doesn't mean it's not real."

Severus curled his lip in contempt. "Albus," he spat.

"Got it in one."

"Do you still _admire_ him, then, Potter? The man who _kindly_ raised you to slaughter?"

Harry set his head down. "He did what he had to do. Why should I be more important than anyone else?"

Severus's scornful expression wavered for a moment before settling back in place. "Yet you are not dead, I see. Putting it off?"

With an embarrassed half-smile, Harry shrugged. "No, he's gone. It turned out I only had to be dead for a few seconds."

 Snape's eyebrows shot up. "Once again," he said, "the rules do not apply." He couldn't seem to summon a sneer through his astonishment.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, with a wry grin. "But with any luck, I can be normal now." He cleared his throat. "So. Friends?"

"I reiterate that we are not, have not _been_ , and _will_ NEVER BE friends."

"Bollocks."

"Whatever nonsense Albus may have spouted, it _does not matter_. You don't even know if we experienced the same events."

Harry scowled. That was ridiculous. "Let's compare, then," he challenged, leaning forward. Severus flinched, but rather than drawing back, stretched up to sit ramrod straight. "You know that fancy room off the Entrance Hall?" Harry began. A flicker in Snape's eyes told him that he was on track -- Snape knew exactly why it mattered. "Do you remember bringing me there?" Harry continued. "How you shoved me into the wall and kissed me? How we rubbed against each other, until we came in our--"

"GET OUT!"

There was a glass of water on the bedside table. Severus grabbed it and hurled it at Harry, glass and all, and it glanced along his jaw, falling to the ground before breaking. Harry slid back off his bed and to his feet, scrambling sideways to avoid the shards of glass, as Severus shoved back to the floor on his own side.

"I think we both remem--"

"GET OUT, DAMN YOU! IT DIDN'T HAPPEN!" Panting, Severus reached under the bed and yanked up, tumbling it over and towards Harry. It caught on the other bed. Harry backed up as Severus jerked at a leg, sending the first bed crashing to the ground. Severus clambered over it, his eyes wild, and hauled at the second one. Across the puddle of water and glass, Harry could see his wand.

"Sev--"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!"

Footsteps clattered down the corridor outside as Harry lunged for the length of wood. He jumped away just in time to avoid the falling bed frame. The mattress bounced and then tilted towards him, and he stepped back, nearly colliding with Madame Pomfrey as she puffed into the room, with Professor McGonagall on her heels.

"Get HIM OUT!" Severus screamed, pointing at Harry.

"Harry, perhaps--"

Harry ducked out, humiliated, before McGonagall could finish.

 

The next days passed in a haze of uncertainty that disrupted even his grief. With Professor McGonagall's blessing, Severus had moved from the guest room down to his old rooms to complete his recovery, and Harry could not get in to see him. As a peace offering, he sent the vial of memories back with Madam Pomfrey, but there was no response. He had tried to write a note to include with it, but he hadn't been able to find the words to express the muddle in his head -- even the clear bits, like how desperately he wanted Severus to accept him. In despair, he decided that it didn't matter, because Severus was unlikely to read anything he sent.

He couldn't bring himself to tell his friends what had happened. If they had known to ask, it might have been easier, but they seemed to think he had collapsed of exhaustion, so Harry would have had to volunteer the information. The people he wanted to talk to -- people who would have known how accurate Leopold's world had been -- were all dead. At least once a day, Harry would catch himself preparing to talk to Remus about what had happened, only to realize he could not. He would never know how much the past he had visited was filtered through Severus's perceptions. It couldn't be all of it, though; he clung to the thought of how Remus had been basically nice. Surely a Remus from Severus's memories would be worse. On the other hand, that meant James and Sirius might actually have been that horrible.

The memories played silently and painfully in his mind, unwilling to let up except for when overwhelmed by mourning, or by repair work. That labor, at least, was exhausting, and gave him some relief. It shouldn't matter, he thought, that his friends didn't know about this, when there was so much shared grief, but it did. Ron and Hermione stayed with him when they were all working, or had just returned from time with George, but they steered clear of him when he was sulking about Severus. It happened so seamlessly that he wondered how often they had done such things in the past.

Ginny, in contrast, couldn't seem to tell the difference. Once, when he was sure he was supposed to be comforting her, Harry blurted out that he'd been briefly involved with a boy, and she ran off before he could explain -- or even qualify -- the confession. He expected Ron to come after him about that, but he didn't. Perhaps she hadn't told anyone about it. It had been an entire day since, Harry realized, as he walked down to dinner, and although nothing terrible had happened, she had yet to speak to him, which left him wondering where he stood with everyone.

 _Great_ , he thought. _For being stuck in my head, I preferred my time with Severus._

Ahead was the Entrance Hall, and a familiar sweep of black robe swirling behind a turning form. Harry froze as he realized where Severus was going -- into the audience chamber in which they had fooled around in their imagined past. Slowly, he resumed walking. Near the doorway, he slowed still more, stepping carefully and quietly towards the half-open door. He paused, but there was no sound from inside. Moving sideways, he slipped through the gap.

"Hi."

Severus stiffened, but didn't turn. The darkness outside made a mirror of the window glass. Harry looked for his face in the reflection, and their eyes met. Severus whirled about to face him.

"Were you remembering?" Harry asked softly, hardly daring to breathe. Severus responding with a choking gasp, a laugh strangled at birth.

"You never give up, do you Potter?"

Harry clicked the door shut behind him and took a step forward. "And what is it," he asked, "that you expect me to give up? My ill-advised adolescent crush on the Half-Blood Prince? The best friend of my second childhood?"

Severus stepped back, but that just put him against the wall. Harry moved forward. Their lips met. It was just as good as the first time, with a surge of power replacing the rush of surrender.

"Potter...."

"Don't call me that," Harry whispered fiercely. "Not _ever_."

"I might call you Lee," Severus threatened.

Harry huffed. "If you must. But I'm _not_ James." As he spoke, he brought his hand to Severus's groin, feeling for hardness and finding it. He molded his grip around that padded length.

"We can't," Severus gasped, but made no move to evade him. Harry claimed another kiss, long and fierce, coaxing Severus into response and then keeping him there, lips battling. Severus moaned.

"Of course we can," Harry answered finally. The robes Severus wore were thick, so he unfastened enough to get to his trousers. His erection felt harder and more real through just the thin wool.

"You're a student."

"Only if I want to be, and you don't need to be a professor, now. School's not even in session."

"Lily would hate me." His voice caught on the faint words, and Harry felt enough sympathy to stop groping him. He brought the hand up to Severus's face, tracing the angle of his cheekbone and the curve of his ear, and he kissed him again, briefly and softly.

"I don't think she would," he said. "I've only met her spirit, and only twice, and only briefly, but I think that as long as we're happy, she'd be fine."

The noise Severus made was a faint remnant of the quiet laugh of his childhood. "Pott-- Harry. Do you suppose I'll make you happy?"

His voice was scornful, or tried to be, but Harry dipped his fingers inside those trousers to touch as much as he could of the tip of his cock. Severus let out a familiar whine as Harry trailed a wet strand across the head.

"I expect that you _could_ ," Harry answered. He tried to sound sultry, but it just came out choked. With a desperate cry, Severus hooked one hand around the back of Harry's neck and grabbed for the front of his jeans with the other. Harry moaned and shoved into the touch.

"Such a _boy_ ," Severus said wickedly, whispering into his ear. "I could lead you around by this." His fingers squeezed with exacting pressure, claiming the attention of every nerve in Harry's cock.

"God! Please do," Harry begged.

Teasingly, Severus let go and drew down his zip. He slid a single finger in the gap and dragged the back of it up Harry's erection. "Will you do what I say?"

" _Anything_ ," Harry promised. He caught himself. "Anything but go away," he corrected.

Severus almost laughed, releasing his breath in a low, satisfied purr. "I think I have better ideas," he said, undoing the button of Harry's trousers. "Take those off. If anyone interrupts, I want your state to be beyond vagaries of interpretation."

In awkward, unbalanced hops, Harry complied. While he worked on it, Severus unfastened his robes, and opened his trousers. His stiff cock pushed out as soon as there was room. Severus traced the length of it lightly, but let it hang there.

"Now," he said, "I think someone owes me a blow job."

Harry went to his knees immediately. He knew there was a risk to this -- Severus might get off and then leave, saying he never wanted to see him again -- but Severus would definitely leave if he didn't. He was also curious. Sucking cock was one of those things that he had remembered as having done, but he didn't think he had actually dreamed it through. He honestly had no idea if he'd like it. At the moment, however, the smooth maroon skin in front of him looked eminently lickable, which was definitely a good sign. He drew just the tip of his tongue up the blood-dark length. It was clean -- had Severus managed a surreptitious charm while he was hopping around fighting his jeans? -- but the scent from the curls behind it was musky and exciting. He made the stroke again, this time with the full width of his tongue, and then seized the root of the shaft to hold it still, so he could rub his mouth around the head.

"Oh yes," Severus said darkly. "Very good, Harry." He drew a hand up through Harry's hair. "Have you ever really done this?" he asked, almost at a whisper.

Harry shook his head no, slipping his mouth over the head as he finished, and then down as far as he could, holding his throat open and easing up only when he thought he would choke.

"Talented," Severus murmured. He moaned just the way Harry remembered, though his voice was lower. His fingers tightened in Harry's hair. "I think you like this."

"Mm," Harry agreed, making Severus twitch. Rather than being embarrassed, he felt a little smug at the response he was getting. He was entirely unprepared to be shoved away, and he tumbled back, only just managing to roll enough to not catch his lower legs.

"What was that for?" he exclaimed, but Severus had already joined him on the ground, pinning his hips and sucking in his erection with so much force that it was almost a bite. Harry collapsed back onto his elbows.

"I-- Do you want it rougher?"

"No, you fool," Severus said, scrabbling his lower body around to bring his glistening wet cock by Harry's head. The bulk of his robes lay behind him, caught by the floor and dragged out in a fan. "I want it mutual. Be as sweet as your dear little virgin heart desires."

Grinning, Harry rolled up on his side. "Oh, I'm not so sweet as all that, Sev." He padded his teeth with his lips and caught Severus's prick from the side between them, playing with it like a dog with a bone.

"Brat," Severus declared, and took him in again, and Harry softened his mouth and followed suit.

Clearly, he decided, Severus had done this before. He started with a loose, slurping pump and then tightened up. Harry made a game of trying to match his moves, but he was plainly losing. Every minute or so, his brain would shut down from pleasure and he would forget to move, his mouth going slack around the slight pumps of Severus's cock. Eventually, he lost it entirely, his vision going white and his brain connecting straight to his cock. When the last tremors left him, he found Severus had also gone still. His prick was rigid against Harry's cheek, and Harry thought he might have been drooling on it.

With a pleased hum, Harry dragged his lips back up to the tip and demonstrated how much he had learned.

 

They had lain still for a long time, or it seemed that way. Harry wouldn't have vouched for his sense of time. Finally, Severus sighed and sat up, and Harry reluctantly levered his torso up off the hard marble.

"Was that what you wanted, Harry?" Severus asked. He didn't quite manage to make the question mocking.

With a frown, Harry pushed back his hair. "Hardly," he retorted.

Severus raised his eyebrows. "Really? You looked quite satisfied to me."

"That's not the same! I mean, yes, I wanted that, but it wasn't much of what I wanted."

"Tell me then," Severus sneered, "what do you want? Shall I bugger you in my old classroom?"

Harry glared. "I want my friend back," he said.

For just a moment, Severus looked lost. "I can't. He doesn't exist."

"He's part of you," Harry countered. "Like Leopold is part of me."

Severus shook his head. "No. Those things didn't happen. By the end.... I was never that boy who kissed you here, L-- Harry. Never."

"I know that. It was different. Your influences were different. Some things were different just because I wasn't a girl, but more than that, I'm not my mother, just like I'm not my father."

Severus gave up on scorn and looked away. "You are not," he said. "But you have paid for her virtues."

"And her limitations," Harry insisted. "She couldn't hold you -- and James wanting her must have changed a lot of how it worked."

"And she did not want me," Severus admitted haltingly.

Harry stroked along his face, which was still turned away. "Not that way," he whispered, "but I do."

Severus hid his face in his hands. "It won't work."

Harry kissed the fingertips he could reach with his lips. "Who's to say? Stranger things have happened, I think. If you have some other lover waiting in the wings who might lose interest while you try me out, by all means, tell me to go hang. If not, why not give it a go?"

Severus let out a strangled laugh. "I cannot afford weakness."

"Shh," Harry soothed. "Sev. You always make things harder than they need to be. Voldemort's dead. Most of his supporters are dead, in custody, or glad to have survived his service." He kissed a bit of ear that looked appealing. "You're free of it. I'm free of it. Let's find out who we are without it all."

Severus turned half towards him. He didn't lean forward, but he let Harry draw him in.

"Yes," he choked.

"You'll be my friend? My lover?"

"Yes." Severus half-laughed. "God, yes, you imbecilic Gryffindor."

"Brilliant."

They didn't get to dinner that night.


End file.
